


Cabin Fever

by factorielle



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-28
Updated: 2005-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/pseuds/factorielle





	Cabin Fever

A light breeze was blowing across the deck of the ship, making the heat of the afternoon sun bearable, even pleasant. Usually, this type of weather combined with the absence of aggressive pirates or marines would have induced torpor, making it a comfortably slow and lazy day.

This time was different. The weather had been constant for over two weeks, something Nami had never seen or even expected in Grand Line. Even less probable, the one ship they'd met in ten days had been overly friendly and traded fine silk and subtle spices for a price that even she had found nothing to complain about. Sanji had almost squeed in delight, and Usopp had spent a week sewing new, high quality clothes for the crew, something at which he'd proved surprisingly good.

No new island for weeks, no immediate goal to reach, no one to fight, no dramatic lack of food, not even a tight spot of weather to struggle against and distract them from their increasing restlessness. There was nothing to do, and she could feel her and everyone's mental resistance getting dangerously close to snapping. Robin seemed to be the least affected, by herself as usual, reading books and making notes, but sometimes Nami saw her indulgent smile wearing thin at the rest of the crew's antics. Not that there were that much of those, now. Zoro and Sanji had stopped the tradition of their daily fight when Usopp had yelled at them for breaking things on the ship again - before cowering back at the strange looks everyone gave him for his outburst. Nami herself didn't have anything left to read on board that she could comprehend, and was now spending most of her time finding new ways to increase her friends' debts, which was never a good sign for anyone. Even Luffy was getting snappish, having grown bored with watching the seemingly endless sea, and was now visibly itching for something to relieve his frustration on. And Chopper, poor Chopper, the most sensitive to the subtle changes in the dynamics amongst the crew, was clearly overwhelmed by the tension, which made him spastic, which in turn made everyone that little more annoyed...

When contemplating the dangers of Grand Line, Nami had never thought about peacefulness and good weather. And now, it was turning out to be worst than anything they'd faced before. They all knew how to behave when they stuck their nose into something they didn't fully understand. That was fighting, pure and simple (sometimes there was some running away, too, but _that_ was never simple). You fought against the guy that was there, and if you could you kept an eye on your crew because opponents tended to have no honor and attack from behind. If you made it (and she considered herself lucky that they'd all made it, every time), you fought against the next one, and the next, until there was no bad guy left standing and another population high on renewed freedom could start worshiping Luffy. That was what the Straw Hat Pirates knew, what they understood. That was what worked. Forced tranquility didn't. And she had no way to tell when it would stop, if they were going to reach land or get to fight against someone, anyone that was not one of them, before Sanji kicked Luffy overboard for being too noisy about meat and no one bothered to go and save him.

A shadow over her interrupted her rather gloomy contemplation, and as usual it was her most devoted worshiper, holding a plate on which stood a beautifully decorated glass of fruit cocktail, undoubtedly improved by a perfectly balanced mix of those new spices - when all she wanted was a glass of fresh water and some peace and quiet. It was superb and probably delicious, and the cook was looking at her with the usual passion and puppy-like expectation, ready to dissolve in a puddle of accomplished goo if she would only deign to grant him one nice word.  


* * *

From his napping point on the deck, Zoro, half-asleep but still aware of his surroundings, noticed the stupid cook finally leaving his kitchen and heading to the comfortable deck chair where a scantily-clad Nami was exposing her body for everyone (most of them uninterested) to see. This was his cue to get to the kitchen and the rum bottles unscathed - the one occasion during the day when he could steal some alcohol and not suffer the man's bitching, and in turn Usopp's complaining about their neverending squabbles or Chopper's sad, disappointed eyes.

He'd had it perfectly timed for a while, knowing exactly for how long the idiot stayed at the girls' side and gushed - shorter for Robin than for Nami, and significantly longer when both of them were available at the same time.

He was busy trying to make out the complicated labels and pick the strongest drink when he heard the deck chair rattling on the wood and the sound of glass breaking. Surprised, he glanced out to see that Nami had apparently got up at high speed and slapped the glass away from her. He couldn't see her expression from where he stood, but she was trembling, fists clenched, her body language speaking of nothing but annoyance and anger. Sanji, with pink hearts floating all around his head, bowed down in front of her in abject apologies and knelt down to pick up the broken pieces.

Zoro returned to picking his bottle, rolling his eyes at the cook's total lack of self-respect.

A minute later, the door to the kitchen burst open, and Sanji stomped in with his hands full of shards before kicking the door shut. Not even bothering to hide the bottle in his hands, Zoro smirked at him, infinitely amused at the circumstances.

"Maybe now you'll stop wasting your time on that woman and focus on cooking for everyone, moron," he said. It was a cheap jab, nothing new or especially hurtful, of the sort that usually started their fights - and Zoro was dying for a fight.

He didn't realize how wrong a thing it had been to say until he was slammed in a corner, still registering the sound of the glass shards falling on the ground and that of the hand that had been slapped on the wall a mere millimeter from his head. The shock only lasted a second, but by that time Sanji's knee was secured against Zoro's thigh, effectively trapping him between a wall and a leg that was way too strong to be pushed away easily. And he didn't even have his blades, dammit.

"Oi, let g-" he tried to protest, but Sanji interrupted, voice low and steady and in total contrast with his deadly serious expression.

"Wasting my time, am I? So tell me, _swordsman_" the word spat out like it was the worst possible insult, "what exactly have you done for the crew lately?" he snarled, and Zoro would have been able to find the perfect answer... if only the man hadn't been right. Half of the Straw Hats had a title that made them obviously necessary to the immediate welfare of the crew. Navigator, doctor, cook : all three of them had a daily job of looking after something specific. Usopp always seemed to be doing something, be it small repairs on the ship, improving Nami's weapon or creating a new, more efficient polish for Zoro's swords. Robin, while she never gave any impression of activity, was always in the right place at the right time to help anyone who needed a hand or five. Even Luffy, whose main talent seemed to be hindering progress, was still the cement that held this crew of misfits together, which more or less made him useful in a metaphysical sort of way. As for Zoro... well, Zoro slept, ate, and lifted weights.

Usually it wasn't a problem. There was always a new fight for survival, always a new opponent to beat and use as a stepping stone to reach his goal, and then he had to recuperate from what would have been deadly injuries to anyone else, which everyone had to agree was a full-time business. But these days, there had been no fighting, and despite trying his best to focus on his training, he was starting to feel slightly useless. Not that he'd admit it in front of the cook; not now, not like this. He couldn't answer and he couldn't break free, so all he had left to do was glare back with equal intensity and growl, hoping to beat the man in what was obviously, on his side, a feather-ruffling contest.

He doubted the man would fall for it, and indeed, Sanji didn't. Instead he grinned, feral, and Zoro couldn't help but notice that the cook had sharp little canines, before he mentally kicked himself in the head. Really, he saw the weirdest things when he was fighting. "So?" Sanji asked, pressing closer. "What could you possibly be good at, except waving your sticks around?"

Zoro would have replied. He really would have, but he got distracted when, for a split second, the pressure at his side disappeared and he thought he could escape - until his knees were forced apart, then his thighs, and Sanji's knee was now way too close to certain sensitive parts to even consider immediate retaliation. Knowing the man's leg strength, trying to push him off before he wanted to be pushed off... well, suddenly the expression 'challenging a centipede to an ass-kicking contest' hit a little too close to home.

"But you seem so annoyed with the attention I give to the ladies," Sanji went on, disturbingly licking his lips. "Almost jealous. So I guess... maybe you would like to be our resident whore?" And suddenly the distance between himself and the bastard was not only annoying, but truly dangerous. "At least that wouldn't require any special talent." And then, when Zoro thought the guy was going to kiss him or something, Usopp's call of "LAND AHOY!" rang all through the ship, distracting Sanji just long enough for Zoro to push him back with all the power in his arms and run the hell out of the kitchen.


End file.
